Guilty
by la Domkova
Summary: It is a sin, it is a crime loving you like I do. It is a crime and am guilty, guilty of loving you." the story of a witch and her love that will change the wizarding love. My telling of Tom Riddle's parents' story
1. Prologue

**.: Prologue :.**

**K**ismet, used to say the Grey Dames, Who Saw the Spirits' intention, was like a lash on the Sons of Danu: it may be long, it may be short, but living beings could move freely within its length.

The Grey Dames used to add that Kismet was like a journey too: the Sons of Danu knew where they come from and where they had to arrive, but they themselves chose the paths and the means to reach their destination.

And the Grey Dames also said that the path of every Son of Danu was linked to the others' one, because every choice has effect in the whole world.

It was don Alfio Maria Carmelo Trao to choice to give a mundane bike to her niece.

It was Lord Marvolo Meridiæ to choice to let his daughter keep it.

And it was Miss Herentas Maria Lucia Meridiæ to choice to have a ride in July 17th, 1921.


	2. I

**.: I :.**

**C**icadas screeched among prickle pear bushes as the summer sun heated the still air: on one side of the country road, the Mediterranean sea sparkled like a sapphire or a blue diamond, and on the other side the lava field was dark and dotted with Mediterranean scrub. All by herself, a young girl rode her bike, a mischievous smile on her lips, and she giggled at the thought of her cousins, who she had left behind her. She lingered at the uphill road's top to get her breath back: she breathed deeply, filling her lung with the myrtle smelling hair, then she climbed back on her bike and went down the road without slowing down.

Maybe it wasn't an elegant behaviour for a young girl born in one of the most ancient and pureblood families of Wizarding England; besides such behaviour was a bit childish for she who was going to be the new Head Girl of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But that day, Herentas –that was the girl's name- felt too exuberant, as if soon or later she would explode with joy: she knew that day something would happen, and a tiny voice in her mind whispered that this something would change her life for ever. Sure, she said to herself, she wasn't a Seer like her cousins, but her intuitions were almost always right.

The honk on the horn was sudden and at the car's appearance the girl shrieked, losing control: her bike skidded and the front wheel ran up against a rock, catapulting the young witch in a prickle pear bush.

"Are you hurt, miss?" asked the driver, sounding rather worried, as he got out his car and reached her.

Herentas glanced at her almost destroyed bike with watery eyes and then winced in pain as she tried to get up.

"No, I'm not at all," she replied teary, "I feel like a pincushion and I have got my ankle dislocated!"

The young man looked at her, not knowing what to do: biting hard his lower, he took her in his arm and said, "Well, I can't leave you here and…"

"Oh, you can: my cousins were behind be, they should be here within…"

"No, miss, it would be rude and… and it is my fault if you get hurt.

"Ernie, would you move you butt and make some room for her?"

The young man named "Ernie" laughed and with a wink sat on the rear seat with another man and a young woman.

"I'm moved to tears, Tom," sniffed the other man teasingly, "you are acting like a real gentleman!"

The woman rolled her eyes and leaned to Herentas. "Don't mind them, they are just a bunch of fool."

At those words, the men at her sides booed loudly and she giggled. "I'm Amanda Ramsay and they are my brother Ernest and Dorian Tremont, and Tom Riddle," she said holding the girl's hand.

Herentas bit her lower lip, unsure of what to do: etiquette wanted her to introduce herself; still, it wasn't proper for a Pureblood witch befriend the mundane people. In the end, good manners prevailed and she said with a little smile and a nod: "Herentas Maria Lucia Meridiæ."

"What a weird name, weird but nice." Tom said and then he asked, "are you English?"

Herentas glanced at him warily, a light sense of trust toward him, nevertheless the awareness of who and what she was, told her to not reveal much about herself.

"What if I'm not?" she replied wincing as the car bumped.

That prevented any attempt to begin a conversation and they all stayed in an uncomfortable silence.

Every now and then, Herentas glanced at Tom, studying his appearance: he was a young man, not older that twenty-three, with perfectly comber dirty blond hair and ambered green eyes. He had a pale complexion that emphasized his sharp but typically English feature and was averagely handsome. _Aurea mediocritas_, she said to herself, finding that Horace's quote perfect to describe Tom.

And Tom had noticed the girl's fleeting glances, but oddly it didn't bother him: usually he would snap at whoever stared too much at him: perhaps it was the mysterious aura around her or her dignified and hieratic attitude to make him feel like subjugated by her silent presence. He adjusted the rear-view mirror and so to be able to give a better look at Herentas: and he had to admit that he had never seen a beauty like her. She seemed to shine, as if her olive skin and her curly jet-black hair were strewn with golden powder, and her chiselled and harmonious features reminded strongly a Renaissance Madonna. Her almond-shaped chocolate eyes, large and sparkling, looked at him from a place swarmed with fears and pleasures, as her fleshy and cerise lips grimaced with pain as the car bumped. Her lips… suddenly Tom felt the urge to seal those lips with his own in a kiss. He chased away that thought: she was still a girl, maybe she wasn't older that fifteen, it would be not even legal! But the more he tried to suppress that desire, the more it grew.

.: ° :.

**T**he young man bit his lower lip as he led the ass through the country road.

"Uncle Marvolo is going to kill me if we come back home without our cousin," he mumbled.

"Never fear, brother," said the girl on the ass with a misty voice, "we will find Herentas sooner than what you think."

"Fede is right, she will be fine…"

"… even if we should worry about something else," said two other girls, as if they shared the same thoughts.

Sebastiano Maria Antonio Trao sighed, not entirely understanding his older sisters' words: after all, he said to himself, Seers used to speak in riddles. Fede, Speranza and Carità were an exceptional event in the Trao family: first, they were the first Seers born inside the family since 1581; second, they were identical triplets -only Fede could be recognized at once because of her growing blindness- and last, the three of them were albinos. They had the same straight, long white eyes and the same red eyes, like a white bunny's.

An unusual wind swept among the three sisters as an unpleasant shiver ran on Sebastiano's back.

"Something's has just happened," Fede, Speranza and Carità said with a misty voice.

Their brother bit his lower lip and held tighter the ass's reins. "Uncle Marvolo WILL kill me," he muttered sorrowful. "Will he poison or stab me? Maybe he will crucio me before use the killing curse.

"And it is all Father's fault! It was he to give Herentas that bike! Please, Carità, tell Nino he can take my potion jars' collection and to take care of it in loving memory of me."

Carità rolled her eyes at her younger brother's impromptu will.

After about ten minutes, they heard the noise of an approaching car and then a "Fede! Speranza! Carità! Sebastiano!" Relief appeared on Sebastiano's face as he recognized his missing cousin's voice: at once he and his sisters were near the car, questioning Herentas about where she had been and what had happened to her. With a slightly aching voice, Herentas told them about her little accident and how those kind peoples had helped her. Sebastiano thanked them politely and helped Herentas out the car.

Tom replied with a nervous smile, not liking at all the way Fede, Speranza and Carità stared at him and whispered to each other, it made him feel like an accused before a jury.

"Are you sure to be able to come back home?" asked Tom, feeling as if he couldn't part from Herentas. "You said your house isn't far from here, it would take just a couple of minutes to…"

"No, thank you," replied one of the triplets, "you don't have to trouble yourself: we can take care of Herentas quite well."

Tom bit his lower lip as he put the car into gear. "Well, I wish you to get well soon, Miss Meridiæ," he said.

Herentas nodded and then she smiled politely. "Thank you for your help, Tom Riddle," she said, "one day I'll repay my debt."

Those words caught Tom off his guard, and he shook his head blushing slightly. "You don't have to, Miss, but I would like to see you again."

"We'll meet again, Tom Riddle, if this is what Fate has in store for us," she replied enigmatic.


	3. II

_"_**_A_**_mor, ch'a nullo amato amar perdona,  
__Mi prese del costui piacer si' forte,  
__Che, come vedi, ancor non m'abbandona."_

**.: II :.**

**T**he waiter twisted his mouth and sighed: books and notes took up the whole table, leaving no room for what the customers had ordered. Sensing his troubled thoughts, the couple exchanged a look and at once piled up their papers. The young woman brought the cup of tea to her lips, blowing softly on the hot liquid.

"Have you decided what to do after Hogwarts?" asked the man, biting a cucumber sandwich.

"I don't know," she replied, "I would like to stay there as a Librarian or take the Magical and Muggle Legends' teaching post but… you know my father, it would be a miracle if he let me keep on my studies."

"He couldn't stop you, Herentas, not after you found out Rowena's Library, not after _what_ you found there."

"I know John, but he just thinks that a girl in my position have to marry a good match," she replied sadly, "especially if that match is named Malfoy."

John patted her hand and sighed deeply. "Well, he just can't ignore this," he said pointing at her papers, "no one can.

"Does the Headmaster have a faint idea of that Library's value?"

"The Confraternity is happy with his and Ministry's ignorance," she replied with a wicked smile.

They drank their tea silently, after that they resumed their work: it was rather strange to see a man and a young girl sitting in a tea house and talking about ancient poems, unknown and dead languages and the better way to translate them; But they didn't cared, because it was what they loved more than anything.

"You know," Herentas giggled, "sometimes I think I should do like you and live among Muggles."

"Actually it was my mother to take this decision but… well, there are differences between you and I: I'm used to live in this way and…" John lowered his voice in a whisper, "and I think wizards are arrogant. No offence is intended, of course."

"You don't have to apology," she replied smiling and turning her head to watch the passer-bys, "because it is the truth. Well, a part of it.  
"My father would have a syncope if I go to live among Muggles…"

Herentas frowned slightly as she saw a young man running on the street's other side: he looked familiar, even if she could point out who he was and when she had seen him. Deciding that quite probably that man reminded her one of her schoolmates, she dismissed that thought.

**.: ° :.**

"**H**ere you are, Riddle!" spat the man. "What kind of lawyer will you be if you are always late?!"

"I'm… I'm sorry Mr Morris, sir, I've lost bus," muttered Tom, trying to sound as sorry as possible.

"I really don't know what's happening to you, boy: you have been so distract since when you have come back from Italy! I shouldn't have given you that leave!"

"It was Catherine who asked for it, not me," replied the young man matter-of-factly.

Actually, Tom thought as he and his boss walked toward the courtroom, it wasn't the holiday in itself to disrupt him.

He just couldn't take out of his head that Herentas girl –and he was surprised by himself, since he always forgot people's name: every time Tom closed his eyes, he saw her beautiful visage, so young and fresh. It wasn't curiosity, because his nature wasn't curious, it was… he really couldn't name what was that… feeling? Sensation? What was that thing: he continually thought of her and she was like a drug for him that once tasted you couldn't live without.

Tom shook his head: it wasn't the time for such stupid, mushy distraction. They had to win suit, he had to be brilliant and show to that stupid Morris who Tom Riddle was. And yet Herentas's memory still lingered in his mind.

**.: ° :.**

**B**reathlessly, Tom got on the train and he leaned against a window to catch his breath back: they had lost the suit and Mr Morris had blamed him for it. He snorted: he would never defend some one if the evidences for the prosecution were evident, not even if the fees were high.

With a high whistle and a growing pistons' noise, the train left Leeds's station and Tom went in search of an empty and quiet compartment. After smokers, noisy children and mournful old men, he found an almost empty compartment, where there was a lone girl reading a quite huge book.

"Excuse me, are these seats taken?" he asked, trying to not let his mood interfere with his voice's intonation.

The girl merely shook her head; she looked engrossed with her reading.

Tom tossed his bag on the seat and folded his arms: he felt angry, but not as much as he would like, because the image of that girl was always before his mental eyes to cheer him.

The girl raised her eyes from the book and looked at the fast-moving landscape: she put her hand on her mouth and yawned, and then she was back on her book.

Tom stared at her incredulous: was it a joke of his mind or reality? He bit his lower lip and said tentative: "Miss Meridiæ?"

Herentas raised her head, surprised to hear her name in a Muggle train: she stared at the boy with both her eyebrows up, as if she was trying to remember if she knew that man.

"Ah, Tom Riddle!" she exclaimed, "Thank you again for your help."

"Don't mention it, it was just…" he muttered slightly embarrassed. "What a coincidence, to meet on a train…"

"Kismet."

"Pardon?"

"Kismet," Herentas replied with a smile, "it's what my cousins would say."

Tom stared at her, not knowing what to say. "So… how's your leg?" he said finally.

"Quite fine, thanks," she said closing her book, her forefinger between two pages as a bookmark, "Aunt Lia is a… nurse, so she had been able to fix it almost at once. My bike, instead, is a different story."

They talked about trivial matters, like the weather, how they spent their summer in Sicily and what they planned for the winter.

Tom was like spellbound by the sound of her voice: Herentas spoke with a soft and clear tone but velvety like the pillow smothering the prince in the tower. Her English was perfect –her family should be quite rich, if they gave pronunciation lessons to their daughter- and her laugh sounded like thousandths twinkling, silvery bells. As she talked, Herentas moved her hands, like Italian people used to do, but gracefully as if her fingers were drawing delicate flowers in the air.

Herentas found Tom's company quite pleasant: he had an average culture and a lot of common sense; maybe he was a bit closed-minded. Her dorm-mate, Sivinka Snape, would call him a middleclass bored dandy and a little provincial. Actually, Herentas said to herself, no one of her dorm-mates would ever bless a Muggle with their attention. She thought about how her paternal and maternal relatives were different: the Meridiæ were proud of their blood's purity and to be Salazar Slytherin descendants –if it hadn't to be kept hush-hush, surely Lord Meridiæ would have imposed his ancestor will to the whole Hogwarts. The Traos, instead, were used to threat Muggles with the respect of a good master toward his servant.

"What were you reading?" Tom asked curiously as he sat at her side.

She showed him the book's cover. "Dante's Divina Commedia, he's one of my favourite authors," she replied with a smile, and then she opened the book and began to read from where she had stopped.

**_E_**_ quella a me: «Nessun maggior dolore  
__Che ricordarsi del tempo felice  
__Ne la miseria; e ciò sa 'l tuo dottore._

**_M_**_a s'a conoscer la prima radice  
__Del nostro amor tu hai cotanto affetto,  
__Dirò come colui che piange e dice._

**_N_**_oi leggiavamo un giorno per diletto  
__Di Lancialotto come amor lo strinse;  
__Soli eravamo e sanza alcun sospetto._

**_P_**_er più fiate li occhi ci sospinse  
__Quella lettura, e scolorocci il viso;  
__Ma solo un punto fu quel che ci vinse._

**_Q_**_uando leggemmo il disiato riso  
__Esser basciato da cotanto amante,  
__Questi, che mai da me non fia diviso,_

**_L_**_a bocca mi basciò tutto tremante.  
__Galeotto fu 'l libro e chi lo scrisse:  
__Quel giorno più non vi leggemmo avante»._

"I just adore Paolo and Francesca's story," she whispered with a dreamlike smile, "it is so deep, so passionate, an undying love stronger than Hell and-"

"Er… I am sorry, but I don't understand Italian," Tom said puzzled and embarrassed.

Herentas blinked at him. "You don't have to, I may try to translate and paraphrase it." She pursed her lips, reading under her breath the passage and then she said. "And she –that is Francesca- told me: 'there is no greater sorrow that remembering happy days in a time of pain and sadness, and your master –that is Virgil- knows it.

'But if you wish to know the reasons of our love, I'll tell you as his -here she means Paolo, her lover- tears do.

'One day we were reading about how Lancelot du Lac felt in love with Queen Guinevere. We were alone and we didn't suspected of what was going to happen.

'More than one time that reading made our eyes meet and turned us pale, but only one passage made us confess our mutual love.

'When we read about Lancelot kissing Guinevere's smiling mouth, he, who will never be parted from me, trembling kissed mine. The book and its author were our procurers: since that day we didn't read beyond.'

"Isn't it touc-"

His lips cut off Herentas's words, as Tom boldly leaned forwardand kissed her.

**.: ° :.**

**A/N**: the verses are taken from _Divina Commedia_,Hell's V canto, by Dante Alighieri


	4. III

**.: III :.**

**F**ive years.

Five years of ardent letters, of fleeting glances, of stolen kisses, of secret meeting. Five years of secrecy.

At the beginning, none of them thought that their relationship could become something so deep: they were just rebelling against their families. But after few months they had realized to be in love.

The first year wasn't easy: she was attending her last year in a prestigious and elite Scottish school and he was articled to a lawyer. He couldn't write to her and he had to send them through her governess's niece, who lived in London. After her school term's end, she had been able to convince her father to let her work as a researcher in a Library: since them, they met once a month in the same tearoom at the same time. That kind of ritual was somewhat reassuring and gave them enough strength for another month, till their next meeting.

**T**he sun was white and cold in that January afternoon, and he sat at their usual table waiting for her: that was the first time she was late. He looked around, hoping to see her or not see any of his friends or colleagues, as he remembered how she had suggested that place.

"There is no better hiding place than before the world's eyes," she told him.

Often she was abstruse and not pragmatic: she loved Literature and ancient mythology and she spent her days bent on old book. He didn't liked those talks about deities, wizards and elves, but he loved her just the same. Despite how much their interests were different, despite how much their tempers were contrasting –he was impulsive and touchy and she was sweet and distant- he would never give her up and he would let no one and nothing interpose between them.

The door opened and a whirl of icy wind and snow entered inside the warm room: it was she. Her eyes looked for him and then she reached him. The young woman took off her hat and gloves and put then on the table as she sat down. Even after five years, he thought her beauty was breath-taking: her black curls were like a halo and her mysterious chocolate brown eyes were… her eyes were puffy and reddened; she tied to wipe away mascara's lumps.

He looked at her and held her hand. "Why are you crying, Herentas?"

She looked sorrowful at him, and then she lowered her eyes and freed her hand from his grip. She ordered a hot chocolate and refused to look at him again.

"I am sorry, Tom, but… but this is the last time we meet," she sobbed, trying to keep her tears inside.

Tom was upset, shocked and he barely controlled his sudden anger.

"Why?" he asked, keeping his voice low, "Tell me why I shouldn't see you again!"

"I… I had a visitor before I went out… it was that former schoolmate of mine that my father want me to marry, Ludwig Malfoy, and…" Herentas took a deep breath and tightened her lips as a tear streamed down her face. "He didn't had… honourable intentions: when I told him he didn't have any claim on me, he replied it was a mere matter of days.

"My father is going to announce our engagement at my birthday party and then I…"

It was too painful for her tell more, and Herentas pressed her handkerchief to her lips and she cried silently.

Tom got up and held her in a soothing embrace, uncaring of the people's stares, and he caressed her silky curls. There had to be a solution, a way to stay together: talk with her father was beyond dispute, Lord Meridiæ was an aristocratic and strict man, and moreover he didn't know what kind of woman her mother was. Also his family was beyond dispute, Tom knew his parents quite well. Their families…

"Herentas, what if…"

**.: ° :.**

**S**itting in his office, the young lawyer watched nervously the snow falling down the City: he was trying hard to focus on his papers, but he couldn't keep his eyes off the clock. It was as if time didn't pass. His secretary knocked at his door and then announced a visit.

"Good afternoon Tom, now should I come to the office to see you?"

"Ah, it's you Catherine," Tom replied boringly as he glanced quickly at the woman his parents wanted as daughter-in-law.

Catherine Morris was a beautiful woman: baby blue eyes and straight, blonde hair arranged at the latest fashion, just like her expensive clothes. She was tall and thin, as plain as a board, but without character and with a marble slab's expressiveness. Tom could do nothing but compare her with Herentas: he had seen that sixteen year old girl bloom in a woman as beautiful as Botticelli's Venus, she was clever and with a great knowledge and her eyes were expressive and mysterious at the same time.

"Ugh, you are so cold lately!

"By the way, I'm thinking about going in Paris: I can ask my father to give you a leave and…"

"I can't waste my time with such nonsense, I'm quite busy right now."

"You are a morose too, today. I wonder if you will threat me in this same way when will be married.

"Why don't we dine together?"

"No," Tom replied as he got out his office.

"Why?"

"Because I said no. Stop to be so sticky and don't bother me!"

"What is happening to you? Did you forget that next year we'd get married?" Catherine scolded him as she followed him.

Tom got out the building and looked around, as if he was waiting some one, then he bit his lower lip and looked again at his watch. The young woman reached him and took his arm.

"Whom are you waiting?" she asked fluttering her eyelashes.

Tom pushed her away and spat: "None of your business."

"You're touchier than usual: if you are angry, why do you have to take it out on me?"

"It's you who put me in a bad mood: you are able to ruin whoever's day." the lawyer exclaimed, and the he sighed in relief. "You're late, Ernest!" he said as a car stopped before him.

"Sorry, I had a mishap.

"Good afternoon Ms Morris, are you com-"

"No, Catherine was about to go away," Tom said hastily, "let's go, we don't have the whole day."

"As you wish, boss," Ernest said and then he said goodbye to the woman, whom looked the car going away.

**.: ° :.**

**T**he church wasn't big and was very cosy and friendly. Half hidden in the shadows, six people were waiting: Fede, Speranza e Carità watched their cousin Herentas, stern and hieratic like ancient sibyls.

"You haven't yet told him, have you?" they said as one diaphanous voice.

The younger witch stared at them sheepishly, and then she bit her lower lip. "I'll do when time is ripe."

"This is the time…"

"… after you couldn't come back…"

"… and the price will be too high," the three Seers said excitedly.

"Are you bringing bad luck to my wedding?" she whispered fearful, "or did you burn too much sage and laurel?"

"Please, Herentas, calm down!" Sebastiano whispered, squeezing gently her shoulder, and then he grinned. "You know, this is the first time a groom is late; usually that's a bride's job."

Herentas smiled faintly, feeling a surge of gratefulness toward her cousin: Sebastiano knew how make her smile or laugh. The bride looked around, the church's gothic architecture was wrapped in semi-darkness: hundreds and hundreds of lighted candles cast a flickering and warm light. It was Candlemas, it was the night of Imbolc and it was her birthday: she was going to get married in the Day of Light, that had to means something good.

"We can't wait all day long," grumbled the deacon, "Candlemas Mass is going to begin within a quarter hour."

"Do not worry, the groom is here," replied Sebastiano, looking toward the entrance.

With Ernest behind him, Tom was lingering on the threshold, looking around nervously and ignoring his friend's excited words.

Tom's eyes brightened when he saw Herentas and he walked toward her, but he came to a halt as he saw the unknown people around her. Herentas bit her lower lip, feeling as uneasy as him.

"I suppose you remember my cousins," she said sheepishly, "they volunteered to help us."

Tom relaxed a bit and took her right hand, with Ernest at his side. The deacon opened his book, whispering blessings for the couple. A choir exploded in a triumphant Kyrie as Candlemas Mass began. Tom and Herentas uttered their vows, emotion filling their soft voices. Sebastano handed one single ring, shaped like the Alchemy's symbol of Eternity.

"I couldn't take something else," he whispered in apology, "Aunt Agata will notice it is missing from her jewel case."

The deacon glanced at the ring, twisting his mouth; nevertheless he blessed it and said the last words, which bonded the couple in God's eyes.

There was no time for congratulations, and as they lingered before the church's door.

"It's better if you go back home at once and do not waste time," Sebastiano said looking around, "My sisters and I won't be back at Elysian Field earlier than seven o'clock, maybe we could allow you another half hour before Aunt and Uncle find out what happened." Then he looked in his cousin's eyes. "Are you sure of what you are doing, Herentas?"

She nodded and gave him a hug. "Thank you, Sebastiano, thank you for everything!"

They said goodbye and took two different ways.

**.: ° :.**

**E**rnest drove them to Tom's house and none of them spoke during the trip. Ernest kind of disapproved his friend's behaviour: he didn't know who that Herentas girl was, he just remembered a sixteen-year-old girl with a twisted foot. He knew nothing about her, about her family; still, Tom loved her so much to spoil a profitable marriage.

"We'll see tomorrow," said Tom as he helped his newly wed bride to climb out the car.

Ernest sighed and nodded. "Goodbye."

The couple watched the car going away, and then they stared into each other's eyes: a slight embarrassment reddened their cheeks and they felt suddenly shy. After a long silence, Tom took Herentas's hand and led her to the main door: he took the keys from his pocket, opened he door and swept her in his arms.

"We can't do without traditions, do we?" he said kissing her. "I'm sorry the house is so… empty, but I've moved in just three days ago: tomorrow afternoon we could go shopping for furniture."

"As long as you are here with me, I really don't care about furniture," she replied kissing him back.

They went into the kitchen, where Mrs Forcible, Tom's housekeeper, had left their supper: they ate talking about their projects and what they expected from their life together. They sounded happy, even though a veil of worry and sadness lingered in Herentas's words.

She was eating her slice of tart, when Tom got up and turned the radio on. "We never have danced," he said holding out his hand to her.

Herentas smiled and joy brightened her face: the room was filled with music and love's words lulled them. As they danced, it seemed as if time was crystallized in a moment of pure happiness: it was as if that bare kitchen in London's suburb had turned into Eden.

For him there was only her, wearing a blue velvet and satin dress and her curls smelling like orange blossoms. Her body –the body he could at last claim as his- was warm and soft.

For her there was only he and his smell of cologne and tobacco, and the touch of his spidery and bony fingers.

Herentas sighed, leaning her forehead on his chest. "Tom, we don't have much time," she whispered shyly.

Tom bit his lower lip, hesitating a bit; and then he held her in his arms and brought her into their bedroom.

**.: ° :.**

**I**t wasn't as they wanted: a strange anguish ruled their gestures, throwing a veil of squalor on their wedding night.

Tom had gently forbidden Herentas to leave their bed, in order to make up for what he had been forced to give up: they laid holding and whispering sweet nothings to each other, a warm blanked wrapped them like a cocoon. The almost full moon, slapped by clouds and northwest wind, cast and eerie light in the room. Far away, a bell tower struck eight in the evening. Herentas stiffened as she heard some one knocking violently at the front door.

"It must be my friends, whom want to bother us," said Tom, watching his wife putting on a nightdress. "Let them waste their breath…"

But Herentas smiled and gave him a quick kiss. The woman held her dressing gown tight around her body, trying to keep her self-control. She was glad to have put an Unbreakable Spell on the front door. She breathed deeply and opened the door.

From the first glance, Lord Meridiæ gave a feeling of solemn and strict austerity, and he was a hot-tempered man not so keen to jokes. Leaning on his cane, with a silver and enamel asp's head, he fixed his daughter with the inflexibility of a judge claiming death sentence.

Herentas wiped away every feeling from her face and stiffened her back, fixing her father's stormy eyes. "Good evening, father, I wasn't expecting your visit. Not at this time of the night."

"Hold your tongue, young lady." Hissed the wizard, hitting the floor with his cane. "What in the nine hells are you doing in… in this hovel? And dressed in that way!"

"I was going to go to bed, father, and you should agree I can not sleep in evening gow-"

"Herentas Maria Lucia Meridiæ, I'm not in a joking mood!" the father yelled, his blood boiling in his veins. "Wear a decent dress and come back home, in less than half hour our guests will arrive and you must be there to welcome them!"

"What is happening?" Tom asked from the staircase's top. Those screams had worried him. "Stand back from him! He could"

"Do not worry, Tom: you see, my father and I are having just a difference of opinion," she replied with a smile, "go back to bed, I'll come shortly."

"Beltane's Fires!" Lord Meridiæ resumed angrier than before. "You, last descendant of our ancient and noble House, which banner is our blood's purity; you, my own daughter! How cloud you have united to… to human society's filth! A being unworthy even to kiss the soil we walk on!"

"This is slandering!" Tom said enraged. "I don't care if you are my wife's father, I expect you with your lawyer in my office, tomorrow morning!"

"Please, Tom, don't interfere." Herentas said, fearing what could happen between the two of them. Then she addressed to her father, her face was firm. "Father, I have no more duties towards you: I chose my way and it is too late to come back. I'm just asking you to respe"

The slap was so hard to cut her lip and she felt stunned.

"From now you are dead for me, DEAD!" he yelled, trembling with anger. "Do not dare show on my doorstep the day you'll understand what kind of man you married!" and he went away without looking his daughter.

Herentas closed the front door and leaned against it, trying to keep her self-control, trying to not cry.

Tom reached his wife and embraced her from behind, caressing her hair to console her. "Don't fear, my love, I won't let you to be treated in that way again…"


End file.
